


Albany

by cavalry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Happy Ending, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Language, New Relationship, off-screen sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavalry/pseuds/cavalry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out that things aren't necessarily easy once you get together.</p>
<p>In which Dean has a lot of feelings and doesn't know how to deal with them. Everyone is bad at communicating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albany

Cas isn't there when Dean wakes up, which shouldn't be surprising. There were no promises, after all, no expectations. They haven't even put a name to this thing of theirs, or even really talked about it. It's probably smart, Cas getting out of there before Sam can notice he isn't in his room and asking questions. There's no reason for him to stick around for morning cuddles.

Not that Dean _wants_ morning cuddles. It's just that if _Cas_ wanted them, well, that's something he could do. For Cas. But clearly Cas doesn't, so whatever. It's fine.

He stomps into the kitchen, and to his mortification the first thing out of his mouth is "Have you seen Cas?" The very first thing. Fresh out of bed and wondering why he hasn't seen Cas on the direct route from his bedroom to the kitchen. Could he be more obvious?

Luckily, Sam doesn't seem to notice. He doesn't even look up from the newspaper. "Yeah, I sent him into town to pick up some groceries. We didn't really need groceries, but you know. He was looking for something to do. I think he still needs to feel useful."

Dean is hit with two simultaneous thoughts, the first being _there was PLENTY of things I am more than happy to do with him_ and the second being _he doesn't need to useful, just him being here is enough_. His next thought is _wow, really?_ One night with Cas and he's been reduced to a lovesick mess.

"Do you know when he'll be back?" he asks, without quite meaning to. Christ. He sounds like a lonely housewife waiting for her husband to get home.

"Eh, couple hours? It's a bit of a drive."

"Oh. Yeah. Cool." Very casually, he grabs a coffee and scoots off to do other things. Non-Cas-related things.

He ends up going through some old Men of Letters case files, just to give himself something to do, but he doesn't end up actually learning anything. First he worries that maybe Cas was jumped by demons or something. He's a human now, still adjusting to the loss of his powers, and hell, there are probably still angels that are pissed at him too. Cas would say he doesn't need to be coddled, of course, but this is what Dean does. He worries.

He then moves on to wondering if maybe Cas had just... flown the coop. If he had woken up next to Dean and realized he'd made a horrible mistake and just left without a word. Dean's no stranger to that kind of morning after—hell, a lot of the time he was the one pulling his pants on as quietly as he could. Still, the idea that Cas might be the one slinking away after last night makes his heart clench painfully. Maybe this was a mistake, after all, because if Cas rejects him now he's not sure he can deal with it.

He finally gives in and texts Cas, but instead of saying _please let me know you're not dead or two states over_ what he ends up sending is _can you pick me up some shampoo_?

Cas texts back almost immediately: _On my way home. Should I go back for it?_

The relief he feels is almost palpable. _Nah, I'll get it later. Just come home._ To his own great horror, he almost types _I miss you_. Where is this sappy romcom crap even coming from? Instead, he writes, _Don't text and drive._

Cas responds: _I pulled over_.

_Good._  

Dean relocates to the kitchen so he'll already be there when Cas gets back. He makes a sandwich. Grabs a beer. Drums the table. Taps his foot. Sam squints at him.

"What's with you today?" 

"What?"

"You're crawling up the walls."

"You're imagining things." Dean makes himself another sandwich just to give himself something to do. How far _is_ this damn store? Does he need to text Cas again? Would that be too clingy? Since when does Dean Winchester even have to worry about clinginess? This is like a sick cosmic joke.

Finally, there's the click of the lock as Cas shows up, carrying what looks like all his grocery bags at once.

"Hello," he says as he attempts to get through the door. Dean leaps up to help. Cas looks up at him as Dean's hand brushes his, and then they do that thing again, the thing where Dean feels like they're two planets orbiting each other and his entire center of gravity has been shifted, and Cas is staring with that laser vision of his into his freaking soul, and eventually they realize they've been gazing at each other longer than is socially appropriate, and they look away. That thing.

Of course, Cas wants to put all of his five bazillion purchases away, and then he wants to eat lunch, and all the while Dean can't stop _looking_ at him, because this is Cas live and in the flesh, the same Cas that he had done decidedly unangelic things with last night. That's the same jaw he kissed. That's the same collarbone he left hickeys on, hickeys that are there _right now_ under his coat. Those are the hands that had... well.  

Those are the hands that did a lot of things.

Dean is itching to touch him, to shove him against the counter and fumble at his belt and show him another thing or two about sex ed. That's not too unusual, though. He's been having that kind of thought for years. What scares him is what's gentler—he wants to cup Cas' face, kiss every inch of skin he can find, pull Cas against him and feel him heart beating and hair tickling his nose. 

Sex he can do, but this is getting dangerously relationshippy, and that kind of shit just isn't in the cards for them.

By the time Cas washes his plate, Dean doesn't even know _what_ he wants to do anymore, just that he needs to get his hands on Cas pronto. Sam suggests they all go out for a brisk post-lunch walk. Dude, no.  

"Actually," says Dean, "I uh, found something kind of interesting this morning when I was going through old records. I wanted to show it to Cas."

"Of course, Dean," says Cas.

"Wait, what is it?" says Sam. 

"It's a—you know what, it's a surprise. Cas, come on, it's in my room."

After he shuts the door behind them Dean is unaccountably nervous. He had been raring to go, convinced he was going to throw Cas on the bed as soon as the door clicked, but now he wonders. Does Cas want this? Was last night a one time thing? There hadn't been much actual talking between all the sex. God. He hopes it wasn't a one time thing.

Cas is looking around expectantly. "What did you want to show me?"

"Well, about that, Cas. I lied." Cas looks confused. "I wanted to get you in my room. Alone."

"Oh," says Cas, then " _oh_." He crosses the space between them, because Dean is apparently too chickenshit to, and hesitantly puts his hands on Dean's hips. He leans his head forward, so their foreheads are bumping, but doesn't go further than that.  

Dean closes his eyes. They're so close he can feel Cas breathing. There's so much he wants to say, like _I miss you when you're gone_ and _my bed is cold without you_ and _I'm better when I'm with you_.  

They're too big, though. So big they stick in his throat. 

Instead he kisses Cas, and Cas kisses back eagerly, and after that, well.

It's a good thing Sam is out on his damn walk.

\--

The three of them pick up a hunt a few days later in Tucson. It's an easy case to get Cas acclimated to fighting without mojo, or at least it's supposed to be, until Cas picks up a nasty flu from God-knows-where. Sam and Dean end up taking the hunt on their own—"seriously Cas, it's like, one chupacabra, _maybe_ two, we can handle it no problem"—and leave Cas bundled up miserably in blankets in their hotel room. He's still there when they get back covered in chupa guts, shivering under all his blankets, and something in Dean's heart twists.

"I'll be ready to leave whenever you are," Cas croaks out, looking ready to go absolutely nowhere.

"Nope," says Dean cheerily—perhaps overly cheerily, to compensate for the fact that he kind of wants to sit on the edge of Cas' bed and run his fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. "It's a sixteen hour drive, man. No way you're up for that."

"I won't be driving. How _up for_ sitting in the backseat do I need to be?" He's too exhausted to do the air quotes, but Dean hears them away.

"You look like you're going to puke, dude. No puking in Baby. That's a fundamental rule. 

That's how they decide to stay an extra night or two. Cas insists they don't need to babysit him—Dean hears the implied _I don't want to drag you down_ , but doesn't know how to argue with it.

"How about that bar you saw coming in?" Cas asks. "The one you said we should check out, when we were done? You and Sam should go, Dean. I'll be fine."

Dean had meant they should all go to that bar, as in all three of them, together. There may have been some half-formed idea of seeing Cas pink-faced and smiling and drunk, and maybe at some point in the night peeling off from Sam and finding a quiet corner for the two of them. He can't exactly say that though, so when Sam says, "Yeah, Dean, Cas is a big boy. He can take care of himself for a couple more hours," he keeps his mouth shut.

So, yeah, they end up in the bar.

There are plenty of hot girls here, the kind Dean would have gone after in a heartbeat back in his heyday, but now, for some reason, all he can think about is Cas. He wonders how Cas is doing. Is he drinking enough water? Dean had told him to drink lots of water, but he wonders if he's drinking _enough_. Should they have picked him up some medicine? Maybe they can grab some on the way back. While they're at the pharmacy maybe they should get him some food too, something nice and easy, like soup. Canned soup isn't as good as homemade, but Dean can make him something better when they get back to the bunker, if Cas is still feeling under the weather. He wishes he had his mom's tomato rice soup recipe. Maybe chicken noodle will be good enough?

He's so lost in his thoughts he barely even noticed the girl who's slid in next to him, looking amused at how distracted he is. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asks, and he tries to refocus. Right. Okay. Girl. Bar. Smile at the girl.

"Honey, that is one complicated story." He calls her honey automatically, without even thinking about it. Does Cas need more blankets? Should they buy more blankets? Where do you even buy blankets? He would just give Cas his own blankets, but Sam might bitch about that.

"Ah, of course, the old _complicated_ routine." She scoots a little closer. "So, let me guess, you're looking to un-complicate things tonight?"

Oh. Yeah. This is what happens in bars. This is what he's done in bars for as long as he can remember. Get drunk, go home with a random hot girl, wash it off in the morning.

Now, though, there's just... nothing. No spark in his gut. Just annoyance at being interrupted, mainly.

"Sorry," he says, before he really has time to think about it, "I'm taken."

She looks disappointed and wanders off after an awkward excuse.

"What was that about?" asks Sam, and Dean flinches, because he hadn't realized he was _right there_ , _Jesus_. "You're _taken_? I've never heard that one before."

Dean takes a long swig of his drink. "Not exactly feeling it tonight, Sammy. Maybe I'm coming down with what Cas has."

Of course, he thinks, as they head back to the hotel, he isn't really taken. He and Cas have slept together twice, that's it, there's no _relationship_ there. Just a couple fucks. Don't go planning the wedding, Winchester.

He wouldn't mind, though. Being exclusive. At this point in his life he's kind of got to admit there's no one for him but Cas, hasn't been for a long time. 

He's not sure if Cas feels the same way.

He whines about feeling sick some more, so Sam doesn't question picking up some medicine. Cas is asleep when they get back. Dean leaves it on his dresser. 

\--

He's starting to get a little concerned, actually, with his own behavior. When he's not with Cas he's thinking about Cas, and when he's with Cas he's thinking about how much he wants to touch Cas. Everything reminds him of Cas, from cheesy power ballads to commercials about the perfect Christmas gift for "that someone special in your life." He sees a couple holding hands and wants to hold Cas' hand, an urge so strong he has to clench his fists in his pockets. Even a trailer for a freaking _Nicholas Sparks movie_ makes him think of Cas. Damn. That's how you know you've got it bad.

One day they're at this little craft store in Bennington, Vermont, and Sam is talking to the owner about whether she's seen anything strange lately, and Dean is looking at a needlepoint of a bird. Just this dumb little needlepoint of a bird, but for some reason Dean is thinking that Cas would like it, and maybe Cas could put it up on his wall—or hey, maybe Cas could put it up on _Dean's_ wall.  

Sam sneaks up on his while he's lost in a daydream about Cas maybe-kind-of moving into his room (it doesn't have to be official, just maybe he could come over some nights and not leave, and maybe he might as well keep some of his stuff in there, if he's going to be spending so much time in there anyway) and Dean jumps when Sam starts talking, trying to subtly shove the needlepoint back on the shelf.

"Alright, Iris said—what's that?" 

"Uh. Nothing. Just a dumb—anyway. What did Iris say?" 

"Geez, what is with you lately?" asks Sam. "You've been acting weird since that hunt in Albany."

That hunt in Albany. 

Dean's blood runs cold.

That hunt in Albany was a cupid hunt.

\-- 

Or, well, maybe it wasn't technically a hunt, because no one ended up dying. It ended up being a cupid who had lost his wings in the fall and never went back to heaven, afterwards. With no more orders from heaven he was matching people up based on his own personal preference, even though some of them had already been marked by other cupids... with different people. Naturally, there had been chaos. They had managed to talk the guy down with no bloodshed, though. Dean hadn't thought much of it.

Until now.

He's clench-jawed on their drive back to the bunker. Sam tries to talk to him, at first, but eventually gives up. Dean is too busy turning things over in his head, over and over.

Sam is right, he _has_ been acting weird since that hunt in Albany, since that hunt in Albany was right before he and Cas got together for the first time. Shit, how could he have been so stupid? That damn cupid was zinging anyone he thought would look cute together with arrows. He could've hit Dean without him even knowing it. Everything seems to fall into place—the silly daydreams, how he was always either missing Cas or thinking fondly about Cas or wanting to pull Cas into his lap and snuggle. _Snuggle_.

He's under a friggin love whammy and didn't even know it.

Dean's mouth is dry. He knows he had feelings before, even if they weren't as ridiculous, but... what about Cas? What if it hit _Cas_ too? What if... what if that's the only reason he even...  

When they get back to the bunker he locks himself in the basement and starts putting together a summoning spell.

\--

"Dean Winchester!" says the cupid delightedly. Scipio. What kind of angel name is Scipio? "It's so good to see you again!" He hugs Dean before he can protest. Dean squirms away as soon as he can. Sweaty older naked dudes aren't his type, and anyway he has a... a something. Not a boyfriend, but a Something. He clears his throat and tries to regain some dignity before getting started.

"Well, Skippy," he says gravely, "I wish I could say the same."

Scipio's face falls. "What?" 

"You whammied me, man."

"I didn't..." the cupid's face goes from confused to joyful. "Oh, Dean! Congratulations! I'm so happy for you." He moves in for another hug, but this time Dean manages to evade his grasp.

" _No_. No congratulations, man. It's not right. You can't just mess around with people like that. We talked about this."

"What?" Once again, Scipio looks confused. "Dean, I didn't do anything to you." 

"Uh-huh. And I'm just supposed to believe that two days after we meet a cupid Cas and I _magically_ get together."  

"Castiel? So it _was_ him. Oh, how wonderful—" 

"Look, I don't have time for your games, so if you wanna explain?" He has an angel blade in his jacket. He doesn't really want to use it, but he will if he has to. He's getting more and more tense the longer this goes on.

Scipio takes one of Dean's hands in both of his. It's uncomfortable.

"Dean," he says. "I swear to you, I didn't use any arrows on either you or Castiel. I saw that both of you were in love when we first met, of course. You were pining and thought it was unrequited, and you were both terribly unhappy. I wasn't certain your feelings were for each other at all, but I hoped. I can't always see who's in love with who, you know, I just see love auras. And now yours is pink and glowing! It's shining brilliantly! Oh, what a beautiful love story." Scipio had, at some point, started crying, which faintly alarmed Dean somewhere in a far corner of his mind. Mostly he was just standing there stunned.

"So," he says stupidly, "you didn't. It's not. It's all... real."

Scipio gives him a small, watery smile. "You know, most people fall in love through cupids. It's simpler that way. Easier. It's very uncommon for people to fall in love completely without our aid. It can be a much harder path, but you finally got there. And Castiel of all people—it really is a new era for free will. The other cupids will be so glad to hear this story."

He keeps talking, but Dean isn't listening.

Holy shit.

\--

He and Cas need to have a talk now, but he doesn't know where to begin. He figures he'll just avoid Cas until he can get his thoughts together, which only works until that night, when Cas knocks on his door.

"Dean." 

"Oh. Uh, Cas. Yeah, what's up?"

"Why are you summoning other angels?"

Dean blinks. "What?" 

"I found freshly used ingredients for an angel summoning in the basement. Sam said they weren't his."

Oh. So. This is happening now, then. Cas' narrowed stare is so suspicious that for an absurd moment Dean feels like he somehow cheated on the dude. He scoots up so he's sitting on the edge of his bed, and pats the space beside him. Cas sits down, so close they're touching. It's comforting, having Cas' heat at his side. It's also easier, not having to look him in the eyes for this.

"I summoned that cupid from a few weeks ago. Scipio. Sam had pointed out that I've been acting weird since that hunt, and then I got to thinking—"

Dean can tell the exact moment Cas realizes where he's going with this, because his entire body goes tense. He can't help it; he turns to make eye contact. Cas looks _devastated_.  

Shit.

Very quickly, rambling to get it all out, Dean says, "I can't stop thinking about you, Cas, and missing you when you're gone and wanting to be with you, and I was freaked out because I thought it was all a lie—but Cas, he said he didn't do _anything_ , he said I was in love with you even before we even met him."

There's a taut moment where Cas takes that in, and Dean realizes that yeah, he kind of just dropped the l-bomb. Indirectly. He hadn't even really thought about it. Awkwardly, he continues, "So, uh, yeah. That's... where we stand, I guess." 

"Dean," Cas says. His eyes are huge and bright. He's smiling now, a little incredulously. " _Dean_."

"He also said..." Dean rubs the back of his neck, tries to look away. Cas doesn't let him, taking his face in his hands. They're looking at each other now, really looking at each other, and Dean wants to shrink away but can't, and finds he _needs_ to say this, can't not finish what he started. "Cupids can read auras, I guess. And he said you also... felt... the same?" It comes out much smaller than intended.

"Of course," says Cas, "Dean, I thought you knew. I love you. I'm in love with you." 

"Oh." Dean's voice is barely a whisper. "Cool."

They should probably kiss now, or something. Dean feels like he's on the edge of a thousand things, like he's about to fall but it doesn't matter because Cas is falling with him. His heart is hot and fast and shaky. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?" Cas is looking at him adoringly. Dean doesn't even know what his own face looks like right now. Probably the same. 

"I don't want to be with anyone else. Now or... ever. It's just you." He doesn't know what he's asking, because he meant to ask him to go steady (like a freaking teenager after prom, Christ) but it kind of sound like he's proposing. Whatever. It's all the same at the end of the day, when it comes to Cas. All he knows is that he wants this, what they have, for as long as he can eke it out.

"Me too, Dean."

"Okay. Awesome." He exhales heavily. "So you wanna be exclusive?" 

"From now until the end of my existence."

"Okay." Dean huffs a laugh. "So we're committed. 

"Yes."

"Okay." He's rapidly becoming less and less coherent, so now seems like a good time to take that kiss he's been thinking about.

\--

It ends up being simpler than expected—Dean can't keep his hands off Cas, but can't exactly be all over him without Sam finding out. Ergo, Sam has to find out.

Dean tells him one night when they're drinking beer and sitting on the porch. "Cas and I are together," he says, breaking the comfortable lull. "Like... together."

Sam looks at him warmly. Sappily. "I thought so. Dean... I'm so happy for you. You should know I completely support—"

"I'm just telling you so I can make out with him all over the bunker without you screaming like a little girl. You've been warned."

And, well. 

Dean is true to his word.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fast 'n furious quickfic. It probably could use a bit more editing, but when I get too perfectionist I end up just not posting things at all. I am trying a new and exciting writing phase of my life where I accept that things are as good as they're gonna get.
> 
> Things I think about:  
> \- Are cupids responsible for EVERY instance of people falling in love? The first cupid they met said it was mostly a bloodline thing, but the second cupid they met was making a gay couple fall in love, and I can't relate that to bloodlines at all. The idea seems contrary to the free will that's such an important theme in the show. HMM.  
> \- Does the bunker have a porch? Probably not. Whatever. I want them to have a porch.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr! http://destielesbian.tumblr.com/


End file.
